laundry by hand? You wouldn’t want me heaving wet washing about, would you? All that heavy lifting . . . scrubbing and rinsing sheets under the tap?’
Nick met her gaze and realised he was being played. Ruby knew just what to say, and just how to flash those blue eyes at him to get him to do what she wanted.
But not this time. ‘It’s got to go back,’ he said. ‘I told you, we’ll buy one when—’
But Ruby wasn’t listening. Her eyes immediately lost their softness, turning to hard chips of ice. ‘When, Nick? When the cows come home? I want one now!’ She stamped her foot. ‘Why do I have to live like my mum, scrimping and making do because her husband’s too tight to do anything about it?’ She threw down the cotton wool and knocked the bowl off the table with an angry sweep of her arm. It shattered on the floor, sending shards of china and water everywhere.
‘Now look what you’ve made me do!’ she screeched. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll get a new bowl, either!’ Then she burst into tears.
‘Ruby—’
‘Bugger off, Nick. I don’t want to talk to you.’
She fled out of the kitchen and he heard the bedroom door slam. He hauled himself wearily to his feet and started to clean up. His sides ached painfully as he bent down to pick up the broken shards. He thought about leaving them, but he knew Ruby wouldn’t pick them up. She could be a stubborn little cow when she wanted to be.
He couldn’t be doing with this, he thought. He’d had a long day, his whole body was sore with bruises, and all he wanted to do was rest.
He staggered painfully into the bathroom, kneeled down and eased back a corner of the lino. He’d found a loose floorboard when they first moved in, which made a perfect hiding place for his savings.
He groped around in the narrow space under the boards and pulled out the rusty biscuit tin. He opened it, and took out two five-pound notes, then slipped them into his pocket.
Ruby had locked him out of the bedroom.
‘Ruby?’ He rattled the doorknob. ‘Ruby, let me in.’
‘Go away.’ Her voice was muffled on the other side of the door.
He felt his temper spark, molten heat rising through his veins. ‘If you don’t open this door, I’m going to kick it down,’ he threatened.
Silence. Nick braced his shoulder against the door, ready to splinter the wood.
Then, suddenly, the door opened and Ruby stood there, her face puffy with tears. Without her usual mask of make-up she looked like a vulnerable child, her blonde hair falling in delicate tendrils around her pale face.
‘What?’ she said sulkily. ‘If you’re going to have another go at me—’
‘I’m not.’ He held out his hand. Ruby stared down at the cash.
‘What’s that?’
‘The money to pay for that contraption. Since you’re so set on keeping it, I want you to go down to the shop tomorrow and pay for it.’
‘Oh, Nick!’ She looked up at him, her face full of hope. ‘Do you really mean it?’
‘Just this once. And no more debts, all right?’
She threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him off his feet.
‘No more debts, I promise,’ she said.
Chapter Nine
‘ HAVE YOU HEARD about that gypsy woman, Nurse? She reckons she can tell your future!’
Millie stifled a sigh. News of Mary Ann Lovell’s so-called powers had spread since she’d arrived on the ward a few weeks earlier. Now everywhere she went, the patients seemed to be talking about her.
Florrie Hibbert was more animated than Millie had seen her in a long time. The poor woman had been through so many tests since she’d been admitted with haematemesis, but as yet no one could tell her what was wrong with her. She’d spent days lying on her back, desperate with worry and unable to eat for vomiting up blood.
Millie smiled as she dipped a swab in the small pot of glycol-thymol, ready to clean her mouth. ‘You don’t really believe that, do you?’
‘Well, you know, normally I’d say it was nonsense. But she seems
Nick met her gaze and realised he was being played. Ruby knew just what to say, and just how to flash those blue eyes at him to get him to do what she wanted.
But not this time. ‘It’s got to go back,’ he said. ‘I told you, we’ll buy one when—’
But Ruby wasn’t listening. Her eyes immediately lost their softness, turning to hard chips of ice. ‘When, Nick? When the cows come home? I want one now!’ She stamped her foot. ‘Why do I have to live like my mum, scrimping and making do because her husband’s too tight to do anything about it?’ She threw down the cotton wool and knocked the bowl off the table with an angry sweep of her arm. It shattered on the floor, sending shards of china and water everywhere.
‘Now look what you’ve made me do!’ she screeched. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll get a new bowl, either!’ Then she burst into tears.
‘Ruby—’
‘Bugger off, Nick. I don’t want to talk to you.’
She fled out of the kitchen and he heard the bedroom door slam. He hauled himself wearily to his feet and started to clean up. His sides ached painfully as he bent down to pick up the broken shards. He thought about leaving them, but he knew Ruby wouldn’t pick them up. She could be a stubborn little cow when she wanted to be.
He couldn’t be doing with this, he thought. He’d had a long day, his whole body was sore with bruises, and all he wanted to do was rest.
He staggered painfully into the bathroom, kneeled down and eased back a corner of the lino. He’d found a loose floorboard when they first moved in, which made a perfect hiding place for his savings.
He groped around in the narrow space under the boards and pulled out the rusty biscuit tin. He opened it, and took out two five-pound notes, then slipped them into his pocket.
Ruby had locked him out of the bedroom.
‘Ruby?’ He rattled the doorknob. ‘Ruby, let me in.’
‘Go away.’ Her voice was muffled on the other side of the door.
He felt his temper spark, molten heat rising through his veins. ‘If you don’t open this door, I’m going to kick it down,’ he threatened.
Silence. Nick braced his shoulder against the door, ready to splinter the wood.
Then, suddenly, the door opened and Ruby stood there, her face puffy with tears. Without her usual mask of make-up she looked like a vulnerable child, her blonde hair falling in delicate tendrils around her pale face.
‘What?’ she said sulkily. ‘If you’re going to have another go at me—’
‘I’m not.’ He held out his hand. Ruby stared down at the cash.
‘What’s that?’
‘The money to pay for that contraption. Since you’re so set on keeping it, I want you to go down to the shop tomorrow and pay for it.’
‘Oh, Nick!’ She looked up at him, her face full of hope. ‘Do you really mean it?’
‘Just this once. And no more debts, all right?’
She threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him off his feet.
‘No more debts, I promise,’ she said.
Chapter Nine
‘ HAVE YOU HEARD about that gypsy woman, Nurse? She reckons she can tell your future!’
Millie stifled a sigh. News of Mary Ann Lovell’s so-called powers had spread since she’d arrived on the ward a few weeks earlier. Now everywhere she went, the patients seemed to be talking about her.
Florrie Hibbert was more animated than Millie had seen her in a long time. The poor woman had been through so many tests since she’d been admitted with haematemesis, but as yet no one could tell her what was wrong with her. She’d spent days lying on her back, desperate with worry and unable to eat for vomiting up blood.
Millie smiled as she dipped a swab in the small pot of glycol-thymol, ready to clean her mouth. ‘You don’t really believe that, do you?’
‘Well, you know, normally I’d say it was nonsense. But she seems
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